


Come Home Soon

by colavaria



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Returns, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Friends to Lovers, Gift Exchange, Holidays, Interior Decorating With Steve Rogers, SO MUCH FLUFF, Secret Santa, lil bit of angst if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-05 23:29:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13398555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colavaria/pseuds/colavaria
Summary: Bucky’s away on a mission during the holiday season, and you hope he can make it in time for your Secret Santa exchange.





	Come Home Soon

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this lil fluffy piece for the holidays...hope you enjoy :)

_I wish I could be there_

_**We’ll do a rain check and exchange when you’re back** _

Bucky takes a minute to respond to your text, and you know he’s running a hand through his hair.

_It’s okay, Y/N. You can open the presents without me. I’ll get mine later._

_**Later is too long** _

_A few weeks is too long?_

_**Yes** _

_“Patience” -Steve Rogers_

_**Hahaha very funny Barnes** _

_**Who am I supposed to decorate with now?** _

_:(_

_Save a snowflake for me?_

_**I will. Come home soon, Buck. I miss your interior decorating.** _

_You don’t miss me? Ouch._

_**Nah.** _

_**……** _

_**Ok, maybe I miss you a little.** _

_I miss you too._

You can’t stop the giddy feeling that arises in your chest at his message, doing away with a small part of your worries. Until your phone chimes again.

_Gotta go, doll, duty calls. Ask Steve to help you. He’s got an eye for the lights._

_**Okay, I’ll try him. Be safe.** _

_See you soon. x_

Mindlessly swiping across your home screens without looking, Bucky’s message bounces around your brain like a game of ping pong.

Soon. Soon. Soon.

Bucky has been gone 4 weeks and 3 days, an absence only made bearable by his daily texts and weekly FaceTimes. When he calls, his display picture really does light up your screen. The low quality photo of Bucky frowning had been his attempt at intimidation, but he had been trying not to smile at you behind the camera so he wasn’t very successful.  Something about the memory makes you hide your own goofy smile behind a hand until you can get it under control enough to accept the call, every time.

Any sound of the catchy ringtone gets you retreating to the nearest empty room so he has your focused attention while you describe your days or if he needs to talk to you in the middle of the night.

But even with the contact you miss him, and it is hard. You miss him like crazy. You miss him in a way that you aren’t quite allowed to, because you and Bucky are simply the best of friends and nothing more. Except somewhere along the line you started to see him in a different light, and there are moments, like the display photo one, where you wonder what he’s thinking when he looks at you. Though, you don’t push it since you’d rather have him as a friend than not at all.

Either way, soon isn’t coming soon enough.  

“Who you texting?” Steve asks as he enters the room to see you seated on the brown L-shaped leather couch. His voice startles you out of your staring contest with the burning fireplace in front of you.

“Bucky,” you say with a sigh, locking your phone sadly. “He’s not going to make it for our Secret Santa exchange.”

“T'Challa and him must be working overtime in Wakanda.”  Steve settles beside you and cracks open a water bottle, propping his legs up on the ottoman to warm his sock-covered feet.  "It’s supposed to take six weeks, so the project should be done soon.“

There’s that word again. Soon.

“I know,” you exhale, rubbing at your eyes. “I just miss him, is all.”

"Me too.”

A peaceful silence settles over the two of you as you watch the flames.  Your thoughts keep wandering back to Bucky, and Steve’s reaction means your face is probably doing something to express who you’re thinking about.  As he takes a swig of water Steve fixes you with a look you can’t quite place. It’s some mixture of curiosity and sympathy and it’s going on far too long. For someone who is, as Bucky repeatedly tells you, an oblivious punk when it comes to relationships, you’re sure that Steve will figure out what’s going on in your mind if he keeps this up.

So you poke his toned stomach. “Wanna help me decorate this place?”

“Let’s do it.”

* * *

“Woah.”

“Woah indeed.”

After hours of Mariah Carey and Michael Bublé , the room is finally decorated. Bucky was right:  Steve does have a knack for the aesthetic. Thank goodness for the art student in him.

Long strings of tiny fairy lights hang on the walls and around the doorways, casting a soft white glow over the common area and making it seem like snow reincarnated.  A tall fir tree in the corner gives the room a pleasant smell and is similarly decorated in silver tinsel and ornaments, reflecting the light of the stone fireplace nearby. Above the flames hang red stockings with each Avenger’s name stitched on them in green.  Steve even tied a bow around the handle of Mjolnir, who had been left on the coffee table. The whole scene truly is picturesque, more homely than ever, and it already feels like the holidays.

You bump your hip to Steve’s. “Doesn’t look half bad, Rogers.”

“Not bad, Y/N, not bad at all,” he says, admiring your work on the snowflakes taped to the walls. He nudges you again and with a teasing smile begins to sing, “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas…”

“Everywhere you go!”

* * *

_**TWO WEEKS LATER** _

“Okay! Who wants to open first?”

Natasha’s the quickest and she digs excitedly in her bag after checking the gift tag to see who it’s from.  "Aw, new scarf, thanks Y/N!“ She wraps it around herself and revels in the fabric, and you smile at your present being well-received.

Some presents are practical, like Thor’s to Bruce (pants made out of the finest Asgardian stretchy fabric with “The Revengers” on the butt), while others are just practical jokes, like Sam’s to Steve.

"I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

“Hey man,” Sam says with his hands up and a wicked grin, “I just heard you were wondering about fondue so I thought I’d educate America’s favourite senior citizen.”

“A fondue kit is very thoughtful, thank you,” Steve chuckles as he carefully puts it back in the bag. “Y/N, go on next.”

You tug at the red silky bow to make it come loose, laughing at Sam’s high fives to the others as you rip off wrapping paper to reveal a simple black jewelry box. The hinge makes a satisfying crack as you open it and your eyes widen. Inside, on a black felt backing, rests a shiny silver chain with a heart hanging from it. It’s beautiful and takes your breath away.

“Who…” you whisper as you lift the chain from the felt, your trembling fingers cradling the precious gift. “who is this from..”

Even though you aren’t looking at him, you know Steve’s half-smiling when he answers. “You know who.”

Of course it’s from him. Who else knows you like this, better than you know yourself? Tears prickle in your eyes and threaten to fall onto your upturned lips when you admire the heart, because he remembered you preferred silver jewelry over gold.  This present…it seems far too intimate to be exchanged between friends, but you quickly shake away that thought. Anyways, he always treats you with the utmost respect and dedication, so why should this be any different?

“Bucky really wanted to give it to you in person,” Steve reassures you quietly with a hand on your knee. “But if he couldn’t be here he still wanted you to open it today.”

You nod. Taking care not to have the clasp stuck in your sweater fabric, you put on the necklace as the hustle and bustle of the exchange continues. Its weight is comforting.  Somehow, having the cool chain on your skin also gifts you the knowledge that Bucky is here for the holidays in spirit, and you feel yourself getting excited at the prospect of seeing him again to thank him, whenever that may be.

It takes a moment before you realize you can thank him now.  Grabbing your phone, you search to find Bucky’s name in the FaceTime app. You’re a second away from pressing the call button when the door swings open.

In steps a very windswept Bucky, still in his gear and a duffel bag in one hand.

“Hi,” Bucky says. “Am I late?”

And the whole room goes silent.

Maybe everyone is still talking, calling out seasons greetings. Maybe they really did stop. You don’t know, since all you hear is the slow click of your shoes as you get up and make your way across the room and over to him.  The lights in the doorway have him stand out from the now-blurry background and make him the only real thing you can see.  

Bucky’s arms open with a relieved smile, his bright eyes trained on yours the whole way. In them there’s a new look when he notices that you’re wearing his necklace, something like pure, unbridled adoration. It’s this look that makes you ignore his hug and gently touch his biceps, chest, neck, before pulling him down to meet your lips.

Bucky groans and immediately drops the bag. His hands are warm as they find your hips, tugging you impossibly closer while you cradle his face in your hands. He is kissing you back, soft but insistent, and you are dizzy. Your fingers randomly tug at the ends of his hair since your brain can’t think straight, and warmth consumes your chest when the kiss is deepened and you both sigh like you’ve been waiting a lifetime for this.

Nothing in this universe can ever feel as good as his slightly chapped lips do overlapping on yours, because every movement makes your heart soar.  You don’t ever want to stop.  You want to keep kissing him for the rest of your life.

When you finally pull back, not even trying to control your goofy grin as you catch your breath, his cheeks are so flushed and he looks as dazed as you feel. A tiny part of your brain registers the cheers coming from the other people in the room. You don’t pay them any mind, for your forehead is still on Bucky’s, and he’s beaming at you.

“Bucky….” He must be giving the breath of life to your lungs, because you’ve never felt this alive.  “Thank you.”

He wraps his arms tight around your waist so you can’t move away from him. Not that you want to. “For what, doll?”  

“For the necklace and being here.”

“I wouldn’t miss this for anything. Especially now that I get to kiss you whenever I want.” And he does, again, to more whoops from the audience.

There are a few more small kisses before Bucky finally lets you go to change into something more comfortable.  He returns in a nice grey sweater and jeans, and the celebrations can continue with the entire team together.

Steve gets to him first. “Happy holidays, Buck. Welcome home. ”

“Yeah, you too. Thanks, Stevie.” They hug, clapping each other solidly on the back before joining you on the couches. He winks at you.  "It’s good to be home.“

You kiss his cheek and he snuggles an arm comfortably around your side.  You can’t help but think about how right he is.

Bucky on your left. Your friends on your right.

Feels like home.


End file.
